


faith in the turbulence

by audentis



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: BokuAka Week 2020, Future, Getting Back Together, M/M, Post-Timeskip, Post-breakup, because i cant write anything without angst, its not sad though, little bit of angst with a nice ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:00:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25659370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/audentis/pseuds/audentis
Summary: What is turbulence? Some might argue it’s an inevitable part of our tumultuous reality, the eyewall in a massive galactic hurricane. Others might say it’s an avoidable happenstance, an imperfect yet correctable flaw if one only watched their steps as they walked the plank of life.Understandably, one word might have a multitude of meanings, to many it could mean this, to the few it could mean that, to you it could mean something else entirely. Words aren’t meant to have fixed meanings, after all. The beauty of language is that we get to freely decipher our own paths, unlike blindly following the predestined route the cartographers of the universe have plotted.But what was the turbulence to them?
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 9
Kudos: 29
Collections: Bokuaka Week 2020





	faith in the turbulence

**Author's Note:**

> my entry for bokuaka week 2020: day 3 (future) this was originally gonna be the title for a non-haikyuu fic but i really liked it and was really feeling it for this so... i also wrote this before my brain collapsed in on itself so if you notice its different from my other entries *sigh* anyways i won't keep you waiting hope you enjoy! :)

What is turbulence? Some might argue it’s an inevitable part of our tumultuous reality, the eyewall in a massive galactic hurricane. Others might say it’s an avoidable happenstance, an imperfect yet correctable flaw if one only watched their steps as they walked the plank of life.

Understandably, one word might have a multitude of meanings, to many it could mean this, to the few it could mean that, to you it could mean something else entirely. Words aren’t meant to have fixed meanings, after all. The beauty of language is that we get to freely decipher our own paths, unlike blindly following the predestined route the cartographers of the universe have plotted.

So what is turbulence?

To Akaashi Keiji, it could have too meant a lot of things. Turbulence, the time he dropped his phone into the clogged sink. Turbulence, the time he downed his fourth coffee of the day at half past four. Turbulence, the piling deadlines, and stressful meetings, and the overall crushing weight of being twenty-two in this harsh corporeality we called home. 

Turbulence, like so many words, does not have a fixed meaning, nor does it have much intangibility to its essence. For turbulence is one of those things you couldn’t put into words even if you sat in front of a piece of paper for hours on end. It is one of those things that are special to an individual, a fingerprint of mortality if you would, unable to be understood by those who had not directly experienced it. Yet it is one of those things that lingers, never letting you forget that even after the eyewall of the hurricane has passed, it will always be there.

Yet, the frustrated man wanted to put the turbulence into a single, pocket sized word, and so he did. Distance. What better word to express an inexpressible construct? He thought it was rather fitting. After all, it was the device the universe’s demolitionists had used to tear down the pylons of their relationship.

Akaashi Keiji and Bokuto Koutarou had been inseparable, but you probably already knew that. Though, “just friends” might have been an underestimation.

Yes, the high school sweethearts did give it a try, dating I mean, but never past graduation.

For you see, the distance proved too great, and the time together too little. Bokuto was taking on Japan’s V-League by storm, Akaashi didn’t want to burden him with a relationship never designed to last past a summer fling.

The decision was barely mutual. It happened on a quaint and quiet Saturday evening. Akaashi sat on his bed back in their hometown, and Bokuto stood halfway across the world on some far-away land. 

“You want to..”

“This isn’t working. We haven’t even seen each other since my graduation.”

“But-”

“You can achieve so much more without the extra burden of this, whatever this has become”

“Keiji, we can still fix this.”

“I’m sorry Kou...Bokuto-san but ending it now will spare us the pain later.”

It was supposed to be a release, a relinquishing of pain, a freedom they had forgotten about since they started dating two years ago. Yet, when the last honorific was uttered over choking tears, it hurt, it stung, and just like that, the last bit of the steel structure slammed down into the ground with a resounding boom. 

The two former lovers, equally entranced in their own visions of the future, journeyed down their separate yellow brick roads. Whether they reached the Emerald City is a completely different question. But let’s just say for the time being, the world and the star never forgot about their long lost love, and often dreamed of what could have been if not for the turbulence.

Unfortunately, the universe did not give do-overs and second chances, too often leaving those could-have-beens unanswered. But the universe was not the monster it was often portrayed to be, and so it looked down kindly on it’s children, and sensing their longing, gave fate a little nudge it the right direction.

And so six years to the day the hopeful relationship started, four years to the month the withering link was severed, the two wandering lovers stumbled upon each other in an unsuspecting flower shop in the heart of suburban Tokyo.

If this was the universe’s idea of a little nudge, then maybe she was more of a monster than we gave her credit for. Either that or Lady Fate had overcompensated by a long shot.

“Keiji.”

“Bokuto-san. It’s been a while.”

Akaashi had just beaten him to a punch, which was strange enough. He usually let others do the loud talking and bold gestures for him. But maybe this showed how things had changed between the two, or maybe it just showed the younger’s eagerness to end the conversation.

“Yeah, it’s been a while. I, uh, how’ve you been?”

“Good, fine, and you? I thought you were based in Osaka?”

“I’ve been living there for the past few years, but it’s been a quiet off-season so I decided to come home and visit.”

This was much too awkward, but both had not been prepared for the universe’s very big nudge, not that they would have known what to do if they had been told. And so what does one do when engaged in a conversation with an ex-boyfriend you still had feelings for? You ask them who the flowers are for.

“Those are beautiful flowers. Who are they for?”

Admittedly, this was not Akaashi’s brightest idea of the day, or of his life really, probably right up there with impulsively walking into the shop, and indulging in this conversation but, despite the alarm bells going off in his skull, he asked anyway. 

“Oh these...um they’re for...a friend.”

A friend, like a boyfriend was someone you joked around with, that you engaged in half-assed conversations about the most trivial things. A friend, like a boyfriend was someone who you cared about, and who you trusted with your life. A friend, like a boyfriend, was someone who could lift you up and brighten your darkest days. A friend however, unlike a boyfriend, was not usually given a bouquet of brilliant red carnations. Yet, there was his ex, standing in a flower shop, brilliant red carnations in hand.

“A friend?” Akaashi asked, glancing at the blooms suspiciously. 

“Ah yeah, a friend. Nothing to worry about!” 

“And why would I worry, Bokuto-san?”

“Ah-um, because Akaashi, you’ve always been a worrier, even about the weirdest things!”

“I see, well you are a capable adult now, so I don’t think there is a need to worry about anything. Good luck on your date.”

Akaashi expected even the slightest hint of a response as he turned his back and hurriedly walked out the door, but nothing came. He immediately berated himself. Was he really disappointed his ex didn’t chase him? Was he that desperate for attention? Had he always been that desperate for attention? Insecurities broke through the dams in a violent current, and crashed through the once still, peaceful mind. As another building of well-organized thoughts toppled over, he wondered to himself if Bokuto and the universal demolitionists were actually that different of entities.

Hours turned into days, and days turned into weeks, yet the feeling, the reliving of the moment still lingered. So Akaashi filed distance away and replaced it with another word that was much more fitting in his eyes. 

Friend.

It’s not like Akaashi wouldn’t let Bokuto have any friends, that would just be horribly selfish and self-centered. It’s not like Akaashi was jealous of Bokuto having friends, he had a few, and he was happy for anyone who managed to make them. But something about this “friend” did not sit right with him. Maybe it was the way the word was delivered, or maybe it was his volatile thoughts going off like disruptive, overexcited firecrackers, but Akaashi suspected this to be much too enthusiastic for a simple gesture of friendship, even for Bokuto Koutarou. 

But what could he do? He wasn’t about to go question his former captain on whether or not he was with someone else. That wasn’t Akaashi at all. But he also felt like he deserved the truth, even if he definitely did not. Bokuto didn’t owe him everything, after all, he was the one who broke it off between them all those fateful years ago. The thoughts overtook the troubled mind in a flashwave, sweeping him up into the current of the raging flood. But just as he was about to go under, something hoisted him back up to reality.

Ding.

That was odd. Akaashi wasn’t expecting anyone at this time, and no one would ever attempt knocking at this hour of the night. Annoyed at the intrusion, but curious at what might await behind the closed door, he trudged over, not bothering to peer through the peephole before opening it. Maybe he should have looked first.

“Bokuto-san, how did you get my address?” 

To his credit, Bokuto was standing perfectly still which was a rarity, especially back in high school where he seemed to be one a caffeine rush every hour of the day. But maybe there were a lot more things that changed that Akaashi didn’t notice the first time they had stumbled into each other in the flower shop.

“I asked Konoha for it, I hope that’s alright. You never gave me your new number after you changed your phone.”

“Well, you should have at least called instead of showing up at my door unannounced.”

“I’m sorry, you’re right, I should have called or texted but I was afraid you wouldn’t reply. We haven’t exactly talked in the last few years.”

“And what exactly is your business being here?”

“I just, um, I came to see you, and I wanted to give you this.”

He handed Akaashi the object he’d been holding in clenched hands, behind his back. The red carnations were as vibrant as ever. Paper thin petals flew with the slightest touch from the wind, so fragile you watched with bated breaths as you prayed the sharp breeze wouldn’t puncture a hole through them. The gusts lifted from their anthers an aroma of sweetness, and levity. Their long, green stems had been trimmed and leaves perfectly plucked, all wrapped with a matching silk bow. 

“You said-why?”

“Because even after all these years, I never stopped loving you. I know that’s really cliche but all that time away from home made me think about where we could have been if we never broke up.”

“It was for the best. We were young and naive and didn’t have much to go on, I'm sure you can understand that?”

“Yeah, but that was back then, Akaashi. It’s different now. We’re a little older and we’ve seen a little more, experienced a little more. What i’m trying to say is, I want to give it another go.”

“Give a relationship another go? We’ve barely spoken in years!”

“But we were best friends! We knew each other for four years, Akaashi, and we never left each other’s sides! Doesn’t that count for something?”

“Yes, of course it does, but it doesn’t matter enough when you talk about a relationship! Another goddamn relationship that would just end with us going our separate ways again!”

“We were too young back then, we didn’t know what the world was or how it worked or even what was going on right in front of us! But now we do, we have control over our lives, we won’t need to sneak out at two in the morning to go have dates in the park, we won’t need to make sure we’re alone in the locker room before we kissed after every game, we won’t need to hide it anymore, Keiji.”

Akaashi’s heart ached, and he knew Bokuto’s did too. Six years and three weeks after the hopeful relationship started, and two years and a month since the withering link was severed, the two lovers stood in the low hallway of a suburban apartment building, trying to reignite that old flame again. There was still that incessant prodding of hesitation of course, and he thought back to the tear stained pillows, and the tissue covered floor. The silent screams, and the internal beration, and those times of loneliness and heartbreak, and solitude where he couldn’t even ask his mother for help, or tell her about the pain of cutting the one thing you cared for out of your life. But they were older now, wiser, freer than they had ever been in their entire lives. They had reached heights they couldn’t even see back then, and had surpassed even the most insurmountable odds. 

And this is what he had been hoping for, dreaming for the last two years. A second chance, a do-over from the universe, even when he knew it was not generous with that sort of thing. A dagger of held-out hope wedged in the confines of his beating heart, waiting for the right time to be pulled from the living stone. So why not give it another try?

“Do you really mean it, Bokuto-san? You want to try again?”

“Of course, I mean it. I meant all of it. I really do love you, Akaashi, Keiji. I realized that the first time we met, and I realized that the moment I fell for you, and I realize that everytime I think about you, because it’s like I fall in love with you over and over again, and I have no intention of stopping so please, Keiji, please. Will you let me fall in love with you again?”

The words came easily, clear as day, and surer than any decision Akaashi had ever made.

“I’d like that very much, Koutarou.”

What is turbulence?

Well, it is a word that could mean many things. To some it means the wind sniping at our skin as we race through the eyewall of the storm. To others, it might be the universe dipping it’s slender hand into the crystalline bowl of misgivings. To you, it might mean something else entirely.

As humans, it is inherent to think of turbulence as an evil thing, an agent of chaos designed to keep the natural balance between the lions of good and bad, and the tigers of order and chaos. But life without bad isn’t necessarily good, and reality without chaos isn’t necessarily orderly. These two beasts exist in a paradoxical yet symbiotic relationship that spans space and time itself. At times, they are even born of each other. 

And in these paradoxical cycles, however rare they may be, you can always find beauty in the chaos, the calm in the eye of the storm or perhaps even a brilliant red carnation in a field of thorns. 

So next time, as we look up from our feet and find ourselves at the eye wall of the galactic hurricane, maybe, just maybe, we can learn to have a little faith in the turbulence.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading it!! 
> 
> If you want to scream at me:  
> Twitter: @sakuspvce


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